Darkness Waking - 1

I've got a headache. Pushing open the door to a room filled with laughter and smoke mingled with music doesn't help much. It's too busy here..I should go home. Leaning against the door frame I sigh...nothing to go home to but an empty fridge and an emptier bed. I'm going to stay...even just to pretend that I'm not alone for a brief moment or two. Eyes dart around the room and find an empty stool in the middle of the bar along with the quickest route to it...or so I thought.

Dodging bodies..watching thick hands on soft skin...half these women in here wouldn't be getting all their attention if it were a little brighter and the alcohol not offered so readily. I can't fault them though...we're social creatures...even if we don't want to, we crave the connection another human being gives us...the touch..a look..a slight wave of breath on our skin. It carries us to the next moment. I twist like a dancer, weaving through the masses...can't avoid the drunks even when you want to....and he slammed right into me. The only thing that kept him from falling was his iron grip on my breasts. Reeling from the sudden contact and unable to process the fact that this .... person ... was groping me and drooling, I almost threw up on him. Thankfully, his drunken female companion came over and loudly whispered something about sucking him like a leech in the bathroom and took him away...I almost vomited again.

I shouted my drink order to the bartender before I even sat down and as my ass hit the stool I had the shot glass in hand, the liquid in my throat, and motioned for another. The second and third followed the first without much of a fight and while I let them get to know each other, I scanned the room.

The music is offensive, it smells like funky monkey ass in here, the men are either too short, too tall, too fat, too skinny, too creepy, too pretty, too...something, the women are desperate...as always, there's sex in the air and all you need is a Vegas chip, some silicon, or a hellalot of money to get so drunk you don't care.

The bartender is busy...and not what I'm looking for. He probably only does this to make money to pay his way through college...just like all the strippers...yeah, and I'm sure the sex he gets from random women every night dosen't hurt either. Nah, he's too smart...

Every other man in here is too drunk. That's what I get for taking so long to get here...I don't want anymore alcohol in my system than what I've already had. Drink too much and you'll be waking up beside them in the morning and they'll be spouting love poems while you're throwing on clothes and trying to find the words to say you only used them to fulfill a basic need and it wasn't anything spectacular anyway. No sir...I like my men out cold when I'm done. Easier to get away. No messy complications.

I need to move...I'm getting restless...I need a fix soon.

Touch Me Madly - 2

I'm done here...maybe I'll scan the grocery store for some late night meat. Unfortunately, I'd have to be charming and witty and the only thing I'm exuding is sex...hot...sweaty...pulsing through my veins...I need it...badly. Hard to calm down lately. Every year it gets harder. I let my head hang and grit my teeth until my jaw pops ... my heart slows enough and I feel safe enough to move. My hand drops to my bare thigh and the touch of skin on skin...even my own...starts my heart racing again. I probably should have put on some panties before I left but I love how the wind caresses up my legs in my favorite mini-skirt.

The room goes black and all noise gets filtered out except for the constant bass of the music and it pulses through my body, helping move my need from my fingers through my thighs. Suddenly I'm all alone in my head. Nothing else matters but the wetness between my legs. My left hand lightly runs its fingers across my exposed chest...slowly dipping into my cleavage and running back up to my neck and jaw. My right hand finds its way under my skirt. Its fingers tracing the crevice where my leg meets my hip. The thumb lightly flicking itself over my mound...searching for the warmth.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I see myself sitting on this dirty bar stool..head tilted to the right, eyes closed, biting my bottom lip...legs spread enough that the red skirt is pushed up almost to my waist...hand lost in the folds of skin and fabric...chest heaving..what am I thinking...

I've got to pull myself together and get a fix. I slowly remove my hands and straighten my outfit without opening my eyes. I know there's another drink in front of me... a 'thanks for the show' gift. I reach out and swallow its contents slowly, letting it bring me back to myself. My eyelashes flutter and open and as they do I see every male at the bar staring at me with longing. I flash a smirk at all of them, slide off the stool and walk seductively out of the now quiet bar.

I love how my body moves when I walk. Cloth on skin...thighs touching...wetness slowly dripping, waiting to be caught with a tongue...hips rocking side to side...back arched slightly to push out my breasts.

I know they're watching...and I eat it up..